


Mayhem

by lait_tea1



Series: Days of Training [2]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Shin Monshou no Nazo | Fire Emblem: New Mystery of the Emblem
Genre: (kind of like FE3H dimitri), Gen, Humour, M!Kris, Seventh Platoon Shenanigans, Slice of Life, again because why not?, basically 'what if kris had an ungodly amount of strength'?, i love my disaster children, i wrote like 6000 words of this in one day be proud of me, the seventh platoon do stupid things again, the usual chaos with these six basically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:47:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24158362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lait_tea1/pseuds/lait_tea1
Summary: The Seventh Platoon recount tales of chaos, carnage and disaster while mopping the floor. Includes screaming of many kinds, people (usually Kris and Luke) doing stupid things and Kris breaking a lot of stuff.Basically, it's a 'what if Kris was unusually strong (and accidentally causes a lot more chaos with it)?' (Though it's already implied in the game; part of it is based of Kris and Draug's A Support) Kind of like Dimitri's strength, except I doubt my ability to write anyone in Three Houses and that fandom isn't lacking in eager writers, so it's up to me to attempt to help fill the New Mystery section with fanwork.
Series: Days of Training [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1760962
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	Mayhem

**Author's Note:**

> I can't help but write more about them; they're just fun and easy to write. Basically, since nobody's going to write more of these disaster children (?), it's up to me to write it. (The downsides of being a fan of a game that was only ever released in Japan, I suppose.) Since I'm already on a roll, I'll probably write more of them in the future? (And more FEH stuff, of course.)

“You really have to learn to control your strength and when you use it.”

“What? Am I not doing it already?”

“No.” The entire Seventh Platoon said in sync, stopping what they were doing to stare at Kris as if he had grown a second head. Kris pouted at this, and crossed his arms.

“Ryan might be able to pull off the puppy dog eyes, but not you.” Cecil poked him in the ribs with the end of her mop. “Especially not since we know what you’re capable of.”

“What do you mean by that?!”

“Well, we could list out all the incidents that have occurred due to your… uncanny amount of strength.” Roderick began, pausing in his mopping of the ground to start counting off his fingers. “Firstly, you shattered all of the training weapons during your ‘nightly training sessions’, then you tore your door off its hinges multiple times…”

“Alright, alright! I get it! You don’t have to repeat them!”

“…and you really can’t forget the very reason we’re all here cleaning up your mess now.”

Kris winced. “Ah, Luke wasn’t wrong about you running your mouth when you get in a mood…”

Roderick turned to stare at Luke. The green-haired cavalier raised his hands in surrender, taking his mop with him and flicking water from his mop across the other squires and the floor. Cecil made a noise of disgust and smacked him in the ribs with the end of her own mop. “Put your mop down! You’re getting the floor dirty again!”

“Not like the floor of the dining hall has ever been truly clean…” Ryan pointed out.

Everybody shuddered at the thought. They fell back into silence again; the only sound being the quiet thud of footsteps outside the half-closed doors and the slosh of their mops across the wet floor.

“You know, I’m pretty sure I saw someone throw up on these floors once.”

“Not now, Luke.” Katarina murmured, grinding the end of her mop against the cracks of the wooden panels on the floor. “We should be lucky we’re not cleaning up… anywhere else. Like… the stables.”

“Horse manure is preferable to this, to be honest.” Cecil let out a sigh. “It’s not like we don’t step in it every day anyway.”

“Which is why I’m not a cavalier.” Kris grimaced. “And I’m pretty sure your horse hates me, Cecil; it tried to bite me.”

Cecil scoffed. “Nonsense. She’s a perfectly fine mare; she’d never bite unless it were an enemy!”

“She bit me as well, Cecil.” Luke remarked.

“If I were a horse, I’d bite you too.” Cecil snorted.

“You already do the equivalent of that…”

“What did you say?!”

“No more fighting, please, everyone–! Sir Jagen might…!”

Thankfully, the mere mention of their senior knight’s name shut up the others rather quickly. The sound of footsteps outside the doors might have helped.

When the clacking of boots receded into the distance, Luke spoke up again. “You know, it’s Kris’s fault we’re all here. Even poor Ryan’s been roped into this mess!”

“Hey, don’t drag him into this…”

“You’re one to say.” Luke retorted, raising his eyebrows at Kris. “It’s your problem we had to cover for you and your messes, otherwise Sir Gordin would’ve had you thrown out of this place.”

“Brother would never do that…” Ryan mumbled, lower lip sticking out in a pout. Kris chuckled nervously at that. “Yeah, I thought he wouldn’t too, but, uh…”

“Perhaps you’re remembering the time you gave Ryan a concussion after he tried to wake you up?” Roderick said dryly. “As I recall…”

-x-x-x-

“AHHH!”

The sound of screaming shattered the otherwise peaceful silence. Luke fell out of bed with a loud thunk and a yell of his own, while Roderick had been fortunate enough to have been awake and aware when he’d heard the cry.

He opened the door and was immediately met by the sight of Cecil barging down the hallway with a lance in hand and a slipper in the other. “What is it?!” She bellowed, apparently not having noticed Roderick’s presence. “An attack?! Did somebody attack you?!”

“What’s going on?” Roderick asked the red-haired girl. Cecil ignored him and swung open the door opposite his, causing it to smash against the wall behind. Thankfully, the door didn’t go flying entirely off its hinges, though that would’ve been quite the feat to accomplish especially since the door had already gone over multiple renovations to make sure Kris wouldn’t accidentally break it that exact way when he wasn’t paying attention.

Roderick sighed and followed Cecil through the open door of Kris and Ryan’s room. It was probably rude to do so, but it was an emergency, after all… at least, that’s what it certainly looked like.

Katarina was holding Ryan’s head in her lap. The green-haired archer was splayed out across the floor, unconscious, with a trickle of blood running down his nose. Meanwhile, Kris was lying prone in his bed, apparently unconscious – or just asleep, somehow – as well. Cecil looked around, waving her slipper at the closest thing that moved; which happened to be Roderick.

“What’s happened?” He asked, avoiding the slipper and taking a step back. However, apparently Luke had chosen to charge straight into the room at that exact moment and the two cavaliers ended up tripping over each other and crashing to the floor in a tangle of limbs.

Cecil pointed her lance at them at the loud noise, then realised there was no immediate threat and set her lance down. “Katarina, what is it?”

“I – I don’t know!” Their purple-haired tactician cried. “I just heard something and rushed inside and then Ryan was just – on the floor!”

“I doubt he’s dead, Katarina…” Roderick untangled an arm from under Luke’s leg and pushed the other squire off with no remorse for him at all, earning an “Ow!” He pulled himself to his feet. “Have you checked what it is? Are you sure he didn’t just fall out of bed?”

“Ugh…” Kris chose that moment to sit up and rub his forehead. Katarina immediately turned to him. “Kris! What happened?!”

“Uh?” Kris said very eloquently, blinking at them blearily.

Cecil sighed and poked him with the end of her lance. “She said what happened.”

“Oh. Uh…” Kris scratched his head, fingers tangling in messy blue hair. He looked down at where Katarina was cradling Ryan’s head, then up at the ceiling. He blinked. “…huh. So it _wasn’t_ a dark illusion of Prince Marth trying to murder me?”

“What?”

“Oh, er, nothing.” Kris looked back down at Ryan again and only just seemed to notice the sorry state he was in. “Wait – is he alright?!”

“Why do you think we’d know?!”

“Well. Uh. Then that explains it.”

“Explains what?” Luke asked, finally managing to pull himself upright as well.

“I think – well, it’s just a guess, but… I think I might’ve woken up a little bit…” Kris gestured with his hands. “…more violently? As in, er, I think I had a nightmare, and then I sat up, and suddenly there was this pain in my head and I think I went back to sleep again…?”

“You think?” Cecil asked, the hint of a threat in her voice, at the same time Katarina questioned “You… just went back to sleep again?”

“Uh. Yeah.”

Roderick sighed. “So you accidentally headbutted him when he tried to wake you up. At least that clears it up.”

Katarina looked down at Ryan and held two fingers under his nose. She let out a sigh of relief. “Thank Naga, he’s still breathing.”

“Yeah, otherwise we’d probably have Sir Gordin on our tails as well.” Luke added.

Everyone in the room (who was currently conscious) slowly turned to Luke.

“…oh no.” Kris muttered.

Katarina looked like she was about to just jump to her feet and start panicking, but then remembered she was still propping Ryan’s head up on her lap. “Gods, you – you headbutted him?! With your usual ridiculous amount of strength?! And he’s still alive–?!”

“Now, it can’t be that bad…”

“Hopefully he retains at least some of his memories after this…” Luke pondered aloud. Kris’s head whipped towards Luke. “Wait–”

“Someone needs to get him to the infirmary…” Roderick muttered.

“Hey, now, you’re all just–”

Cecil swept up the shorter squire in her arms without even hesitating. Katarina mumbled a “be careful” as Ryan’s lolling head nearly made contact with the bedpost. “Luke, I need you to watch out for Sir Gordin, otherwise – we’re screwed.”

“Guys–”

“On it!” Luke jumped to attention, fully alert. The two cavaliers rushed out the door.

“You probably shouldn’t run when you’re carrying…”

“Be quiet, Roderick!” Cecil bellowed from somewhere down the corridor. The sounds of their rapid footsteps receded into the background.

“…I’ll go make sure they don’t drop Ryan somewhere.” Roderick sighed, moving to follow them. Katarina nodded in agreement and quickly followed.

Kris blinked from where he was still sitting on his bed. He looked down at the stray slipper and lance left on the floor, then back to the open door.

“Wait – guys, wait for me!”

-x-x-x-

“At least he was fine afterwards, thanks to Wrys’ help.” Roderick pointed out. “Though Sir Gordin still found out in the end.”

“Er, I know Kris didn’t mean it, though… it was an accident, that’s all.”

“Your brother doesn’t seem to care particularly much for that.” Luke sighed at Ryan’s comment. “Besides, why did he have to blame me first?!”

“Because when something goes wrong, it’s almost always you, Luke.”

“Well, I – it wasn’t me that time, though! And it wasn’t me this time! Like… the time when Kris broke all of the eggs in the kitchen and set it on fire?”

“Hey, why’re you all talking about me?” Kris let out a ‘hmph’. “Not everything’s my fault!”

“Tales of your unusual amount of strength are quite interesting, though!” Ryan piped up. “I wish I was that strong! Then maybe I’d be as skilful an archer as my brother…”

Kris’s pout disappeared and he reached down a hand to ruffle Ryan’s hair. “It’s a lot harder than it seems with the strength I inherited from my grandfather. Strength has nothing to do with being an archer, too… at least, nothing with being a skilful archer.”

“Setting the kitchen on fire didn’t have anything to do with his strength… if I remember correctly, it was actually you, Cecil.”

“Why, you–?!”

Roderick blocked the swing of the mop with his arm, though most of the water ended up on him anyway. He frowned, displeased. “I am telling the truth, though. There was no need for that…”

Cecil scoffed, though her cheeks were red as she averted her eyes. “Fine, maybe that was unwarranted,” she admitted, “But still–!”

“Set the kitchen on fire?” Ryan asked curiously. “When did that happen?”

Katarina chuckled nervously. “Ah, right. You weren’t here when that happened…”

-x-x-x-

After the _incident_ , the Seventh Platoon were basically at the whims of their youngest, green-haired member – whether he knew it or not. So when he’d mentioned something about craving something sweet, Kris immediately jumped at the opportunity.

Of course he couldn’t just buy something from the market like a normal person; he had to cook it himself to show his care (and to attempt to appease Gordin before they were _really_ thrown out)!

And apparently, because the Seventh Platoon’s commander was unaware of his own… lack of any sort of ability to cook, in general, Roderick had been assigned to ‘keep watch’ over him. Or, in better terms – to make sure something actually edible could be produced, since nothing could persuade Kris from finding some other way to apologise to Ryan for the concussion incident.

Roderick didn’t mind _too much_ about being dragged along to do this, though; Ryan did remind him of his younger sisters, after all, and baking was something he’d been meaning to pick up again, if not to relive nostalgic memories. So he’d scrounged up an old recipe, handwritten by his late mother and tucked somewhere into a pocket of his bag, and managed to persuade the kitchen’s staff to let him and Kris use a corner of the kitchen on one of their free days. The chefs were not quite happy with Kris’s presence, but after Kris’s incessant begging, they’d relented and left them to their own designs.

“I swear I can still feel Sir Gordin’s glaring at me…” Kris muttered, rubbing the back of his neck in an attempt to rid himself of the prickling that crawled down his spine. “He isn’t behind us, is he?”

“This is the kitchen; it’s unlikely he would come in here.” Roderick replied, though he spared a glance behind himself to reassure Kris (and himself). “Now, we should make haste and prepare the dough so we don’t intrude on the chefs’ time any longer than we have to. Have you managed to acquire the ingredients from the market?”

Kris’s eyes lit up. “Yep!” He exclaimed, dropping the basket he was holding on the tabletop. “Everything you wrote down!”

Roderick took a look over them; flour, butter, sugar – he took a closer look to make sure it was sugar and not salt – eggs…

“This is… an entire bar of chocolate.”

“There weren’t any chocolate chips.” Kris shrugged. “We can just break it into smaller pieces or something.”

“Well…” He didn’t really have anything to say to that, so he simply nodded and turned back to the shelf to select a bowl. “…are you sure you want to stay? I can finish baking them in your stead–”

“No, no! That simply won’t do!” Kris exclaimed. “I’m the one who caused this mess; I need to be the one to fix it. Or at least apologise for it. And I really appreciate your help with this, Roderick – you really don’t have to…”

 _Yes, I do._ Roderick stifled his sigh. At least Kris had the heart, but… “Alright, then.” He said uneasily, looking between all the ingredients. “You can…”

_What exactly can he do that doesn’t involve doing anything that can taint the ingredients?_

“…beat the eggs.” He finally decided, pulling out a smaller bowl. “You know how to beat eggs, right?”

“Of course I do!” Kris cried, almost looking offended. He took the offered bowl and reached for one of the eggs. “Just leave it to me!”

Roderick nodded and turned around; unthinkingly taking his eyes off Kris for a second.

There was a crunch and a yelp.

He turned around.

Kris stared down dejected at his now yolk-covered hands. “Well, that didn’t work out…” He smiled sheepishly at Roderick after noticing his dubious gaze. “I was just holding it! But, er, I wasn’t paying attention, that’s all. I have some extras; I can just–”

Roderick foolishly let him attempt again. Then he realised what was most likely to happen as soon as Kris picked up the second egg.

“Wait, don’t–!”

Kris carefully carried the egg over to the bowl, which was already speckled with flecks of eggshell and egg white. With a sharp jerk of his wrist, he brought the side of the egg to the edge of the bowl in a single, swift motion–

“…at least half of the egg got in?”

Roderick sighed. “Never mind. Just go and clean up yourself and the mess… I’ll take care of it before you break any more eggs.”

Kris obediently complied. Put temporarily at ease, Roderick turned back to the mess of egg and eggshells in the bowl. _Somehow I really don’t remember baking ever turning out like this…_

The blue-haired squire returned all too soon. “My apologies for all of this,” he said, scratching the back of his head with his now-clean hands, “I… completely forgot that I’m not quite good with, uh, delicate stuff.”

“It’s fine.” Roderick said as patiently as possible. “We all make mistakes. How about you try…”

“I can cut the chocolate bar into smaller pieces?”

Roderick considered all of the possible, worst-case scenarios. Then he looked at everything else and all of the worst-case scenarios for those jumped into his head.

“Yes… that’d work.” _The worst-case scenario is that he knocks it to the floor and we end up with no chocolate for the cookies… and that would be fine. At least they’d still be edible._

“Of course! I can do that!” Kris said eagerly. Roderick turned back to mixing the egg into the flour and sugar – carefully measured out using his mother’s precise recipe. The repetitive action was rather soothing, actually; it reminded him of his days back at home before he’d signed up to be a squire of Altea. His little sisters would always beg him for a taste of the dough, but he’d have to sternly deny them that; though he had to admit he’d tasted the dough before, just once. Just to see what his sisters saw in it…

A loud crash startled him from his thoughts.

_Alright, we’re making plain butter cookies, then…_

He turned around.

“Why is your sword _in_ the cutting board?!”

“I don’t know!”

“What do you mean you don’t know?!”

“I was just trying to break the chocolate apart!”

He really didn’t have anything to say aside from point exasperatedly at the at the knife lying perfectly in reach on the table next to the… carnage Kris had caused. Roderick fought the urge to bury his head in his hands. _How did it even come to this?!_

For a start, Kris’s _entire sword_ was buried in the cutting board on the table, and probably stuck in part of the wooden table as well. The bar of chocolate had split into several fragments and had scattered across the table and the floor.

Kris frowned at the predicament before them, then picked up the knife on the table, gazing at it in newfound wonder. “So that’s what it’s for…? You should’ve said earlier… Grandfather never said anything about it.”

“Kris.”

“What?”

“Do you always cut ingredients with your sword?”

“…well, sometimes I just break them in half with my hands, but I thought that wouldn’t have been very good here since the chocolate’s melting, after all…”

“Just…” Roderick sighed again and rubbed at his temple. “I’m nearly done. Just leave the rest to me.”

Roderick wasn’t going to let Kris cause a bigger mess than before this time after having learned his lesson, so he banished Kris to clean up his mess again while he rolled the rest of the dough into balls and set them on the tray to be put into the stove.

“Thank Naga we’re done.” He breathed out a sigh of relief, wiping his forehead with the back of his palm. “I’m surprised we didn’t break any bowls or cutlery… except the chopping board. That… they have enough to spare. I’m sure they won’t miss one.”

Kris nodded. His eyes darted over to the mostly-empty bowl on the table, then back to Roderick. “Er, you’re done with that, are you…?”

“…fine.” Roderick relented, pushing the bowl over to Kris. It wasn’t like there was anything to mess up anymore, since the cookies were now done and safely out of Kris’s reach on their tray across the room. “But not too much. It’s unhealthy to be eating raw dough.”

Kris looked like he was about to make a comment, then his attention was caught by the heavenly sweet aroma coming from the bowl. Roderick left him to his doings with a fond smile (thinking about it, Kris did remind him of his sisters too, somewhat) and went to put the tray into the stove.

He couldn’t even be particularly angry about finding out that Kris had somehow managed to break the wooden bowl in half in his excitement to taste the dough, too. After all, thinking about the disaster that was today, that was honestly the least of his worries…

“Hopefully we can deliver these to Ryan once they’re done. Which is, uh…?”

“About fifteen minutes. It shouldn’t be long, so they should be done when we’ve finished tidying up.” Roderick surveyed the flour-dusted table and cookware. “I just need to turn the tray around in about seven minutes so the cookies evenly bake…”

“Hey, uh, thank you.” Kris mumbled, after a long hesitation. “I know I caused a bit – uh, a really big mess today… and you basically did most of it for me, even though it was meant to be an apology for a mess I caused and I should be the one putting effort into it.”

“Don’t worry about it. It was quite a – nostalgic experience being able to bake again. I enjoyed it.” Roderick said this with a genuine smile; truly, it reminded him of fond memories, and he couldn’t really go wrong with the aroma of baking cookie dough. Even with the disasters; well, that was all part of baking, especially with his sisters at home…

“I really owe you one.” Kris grinned. “I had fun too! Though it was mostly just going back and forth between the sink… Ah, well, never mind. Maybe one day I’ll get the hang of it.”

“Perhaps.” Roderick replied absent-mindedly, stacking up the rest of the bowls.

“…hey, Roderick?”

“Hm?”

“I’m no baker myself, but… are you sure cookies are supposed to smell like that?”

Roderick sniffed.

The teetering tower of bowls clattered to the table as he spun around on his heel and rushed back into the room where the stove was.

“Cecil?!”

“H-huh?!” She jumped, caught in the act, and shoved her hands behind herself. “What’s with the yelling?!”

As if to answer her question, the fire let out a loud crackle and flames swallowed the trays stacked at the bottom whole.

Kris poked his head into the room and sniffed. “Oh, yeah, that smells like… what is it?”

The mini inferno going on in the stove made some more very concerning crackling noises.

“Cecil, what did you do?” Roderick asked desperately, kneeling next to the stove and squinting into the fire. He looked around and reached for the metal tongs to pull his tray of cookies out before they could become fully charcoal, even though it was most likely already too late–

“DUCK–!”

The stove promptly exploded into a crackling ball of flame. Cecil grabbed Roderick, who had been squashed to the floor by her gut-instinct dive, and dragged him towards the door as fire began to lick the stone walls.

Kris slammed the door shut behind them.

Smoke was beginning to pour out from between the gaps already. There were chefs and other people running around, yelling.

The three of them stumbled out of the way as several people rushed to put out the fire with buckets of water with surprising speed.

“What did you do?” Roderick repeated again, after catching his breath; he was pretty sure the tips of his hair and clothes were singed, and his mouth tasted worryingly like soot.

“Well, I – I…”

They’d never seen Cecil look so flustered.

“I just… I was trying out the thing you showed me the other day, and the fire didn’t look like it was hot enough, so I added some wood!” She yelled, crossing her arms. “What’s wrong with that?!”

“Quite a lot, from the looks of it.” Kris mumbled.

“Not like you could do any better!” Cecil barked.

One of the people running by stopped to yell at them and exile them outside the kitchen.

“…Ryan’s cookies.” Kris suddenly said, distraught. “Oh no, they’re – all of your hard work!”

Roderick coughed. “Never mind that… we probably won’t get access to the stove for quite a while, whether they fix the problem or not. You can just get him something from the market.”

“Do you think Sir Gordin’s going to kill us for setting fire to the kitchen too?” Cecil asked in a quiet voice.

“Us?! You were the one who set fire to it!”

“What?! No, that’s not…”

-x-x-x-

“I think my ears were ringing for days after hearing you two bicker.”

“Nah, I’m pretty sure it was Sir Jagen’s yelling that did it…” Kris winced. “Man, for an old man, he sure yells loud.”

“Don’t let him hear you say that!” Katarina hissed. Kris shrugged at this, though he did spare the half-open doors a glance as if expecting the senior knight to walk in at any moment. “Eh, he can’t really hate me more than he does already…” His expression turned sullen again.

“Ah… I’m sorry we couldn’t bake you those cookies, Ryan.”

The green-haired archer shook his head. “It’s alright. You really didn’t have to bake cookies just because I said something; and It’s the thought that counts, like Brother would say!”

“Nice to see you’re so optimistic… I wish I had cookies too.” Luke sighed.

“Luke, they were not for you.”

“I could’ve persuaded Ryan to let me try some!”

“Really? That was your plan?” Roderick raised an eyebrow. “And risk incurring the wrath of Sir Gordin?”

Luke shivered as he picked up the sponge from the bucket across the room. His fingers tightened around it as he mentally recounted the scolding they had received from the green-haired senior knight after the concussion incident. “Well, that…. maybe not, then.”

“Thought so.” Cecil remarked. “He seems to hold you responsible for that.”

“What?! Why?!” Luke complained. “It wasn’t even me – I was the one who accompanied him to the infirmary!”

“W-well, if I recall… you did bash his head on the doorframe when you did that.” Katarina mumbled.

“That was Cecil!”

“W-what?!” A horrified expression crossed Ryan’s face.

“And… you accidentally tripped Cecil while you two were running down the hallway carrying Ryan just as Sir Gordin turned the corner.”

“It was an accident!”

“Aren’t they all?” Roderick sighed.

“And Sir Gordin blamed me!” Luke grumbled. “Why me? Not everything’s my fault!”

“It usually is, though…”

“What?!” Luke spun around to face the other green-haired squire. “Ryan! It wasn’t even my fault that time – why would you say that?!”

“That’s because he’s right, stupid.” Cecil scoffed.

“Of course not! Not everything’s my fault all the time, but every time, Sir Jagen or one of the other senior knights keep on asking me ‘what have you done this time, Luke?’ like I’ve actually done something! It’s like they have a personal grudge against me!”

“Yeah, right.” Cecil rolled her eyes and made sure to grind the sopping end of her mop extra hard into the dark patch in the wooden floorboards. “And it wasn’t your fault that time when you decided to challenge Kris to a duel right in the middle of the town square just to ‘woo the ladies’, with nobody around to supervise you? You know, Kris? The –”

“I’m right here, you know.” Kris interjected.

“Hey, I just wanted a friendly spar!” Luke protested. “Besides, Kris, you were totally meant to _not_ make me look even more like a fool!”

“That’s because you already look like one…”

“Who’s been teaching you this?!” Luke complained, shooting Ryan a grumpy glare. Ryan gave Luke the most innocent expression he could muster. “Teaching me what?”

Kris frowned. “I mean, you asked me to duel you, right? You did say to ‘not hold back’…”

“It was implied! And that part was – it’s just a metaphor!”

“You know most things tend to fly over his head… you shouldn’t really have expected differently.” Katarina said in a low voice. Apparently having heard that, Kris looked up.

Even Roderick snickered at that.

“Right…” Kris muttered, disgruntled at having been ‘tricked’. “Very funny, I get it.”

“You beating me up to an inch of my life was not funny!”

“Actually, it kind of was.” Cecil piped up. “I would’ve done it myself.”

“You’re exaggerating, Luke… it was more like a performance!” Ryan added.

“Why is nobody listening to me?!”

“Perhaps if you recall what sorry state you were in… and if you recall all of the screaming, too.”

-x-x-x-

Luke scowled at his blue-haired friend – no, rival! – who was currently not being very ‘friend-like’ and hogging all of the attention from the women that were frequenting the town’s square. Finally deciding he’d had enough, he marched over as Kris approached and loudly hissed “Kris, what are you doing?”

“What am I… doing?” The other squire turned to Luke, eyebrows raised innocently. Luke growled. “You don’t have to pretend you don’t know what you’re doing!”

“Well, I’m…” Kris set down the large crate next to the fountain, brow furrowed. “…helping this lady with her stock of fruit?”

“No, not that!” Luke pointed. Kris turned.

The gaggle of women hovering a couple of steps away burst into giggling and murmured among themselves at receiving Kris’s attention.

“…what?”

Luke facepalmed. “That!”

“Are you talking about… the people in this town?” Kris sounded genuinely confused. With an annoyed yell, Luke took a step back and drew his sword. “That’s it – I’m challenging you to a duel! Right here, right now – on my knight’s honour! And all out; no holding back!”

“What?” Kris’s expression darkened. “What are you doing, Luke? I’m busy, and we’re in the town square. We can’t–”

“Oh, actually, I’m practically done for today!” The shopkeeper suddenly appeared behind them like a ghost, a smile on her face. “Thank you so much for your help, young man; you’ve saved me a lot of time. You don’t have to stay back for my sake anymore – just go and have your fun with your friend!”

“Rival!” Luke hissed not-so-discreetly.

“Well…” Kris frowned, paying no attention to Luke’s comment. “Miss, are you–”

“Yes, yes, of course! Let me handle these last few crates myself.” The shopkeeper chuckled. “Besides, it sounds like you have several… very eager onlookers, so you mustn’t disappoint.”

“Onlookers?” Kris glanced at the women again, then back to the shopkeeper. He dipped his head in a quick, respectful bow. “Very well, then; if you’d like me to… indulge them in a spar, then I can’t very well refuse.”

“Excuse me? I’m the one challenging you to a duel here!” Luke protested.

“And I’m accepting.” Kris let out a tired sigh. “Let’s just call this training, shall we?” He looked around the town’s square. “Huh, it looks like everyone’s gone. At least we have space to duel here, then…”

Luke felt a victorious smirk cross his face and he glanced back at them to shoot the group of women a wink. “Make sure to remember the Legendary Luke, because you won’t be forgetting this!”

The women giggled at this. Luke grinned. “Aw, yeah – I’ve got the support of some lovely maidens! There’s no way I can lose!”

“Right…” Kris drew his own sword. Luke scowled at the awed ‘ooh’ and the one “wow, his sword’s nearly as tall as the green one!” that came from the women, and took a few steps back.

“Well, Luke, are you ready to spar, then?”

Instead of answering, Luke let out a mighty war cry and flung himself at Kris.

Kris blocked with the flat of his blade. With way too little effort, he knocked Luke’s sword back with a twist of his wrist, causing Luke to stumble as he pulled back.

“You’re good,” Luke called loudly, “But I’ll show you I’m better!” He received a noncommittal grunt in response, which only fuelled his anger. Again, he charged, screaming his heart out all the way.

His blow was blocked and deflected again. The women tittered in the background.

“Scared, huh?” Luke called, sounding a little more out of breath then he would’ve liked. “Why aren’t you attacking?”

Kris raised his eyebrow from where he was standing; he hadn’t moved an inch from where he had originally been standing when they’d started the duel. “Not really, but if you insist…”

“Yeah! Bring it on; don’t you dare hold back!”

Kris shrugged.

Then he was a blur with his sword at Luke’s throat. Luke let out a yelp of shock and only just managed to stumble back far enough to avoid it – only to fall on his rear.

Kris was in his face an instant later, sword whistling through the air.

“WAIT–!” Luke yelped, ducking under the blade and feeling it cut the air just above his head. He rolled, lifting his sword just in time to block another rapid blow.

His arms buckled under the force of Kris’s strike and he immediately dropped his own sword on his face (thankfully, on the flat of his sword, not the blade).

The women in the background tittered in amusement as they watched the handsome, blue-haired man beat the green one into the dirt with completely no remorse. “Serves him right.” One of them murmured. “He was an annoying eyesore anyway.”

-x-x-x-

“And then we found you basically being kicked around the town square by our Commander here.” Cecil finished off. “While being laughed at by a group of women.”

“Kris, didn’t you… think of stopping? You did hurt him quite a bit.” Katarina pointed out.

“A bit?! I had like, three broken ribs! and I swear I broke every single finger in my hand!”

“Well, he did say ‘go all out’ and ‘not hold back’…”

“I didn’t mean it literally!”

“Then what else did you mean?!”

Luke made a loud noise of frustration and threw his sponge. It landed with a wet splat further down the table he had been wiping down.

“You do realise you have to go pick that up, right?” Roderick remarked.

“Ugh.”

“Why do we all have to clean this place up, anyway?” Cecil muttered. “It’s not like we were the ones who…”

“If I remember correctly, the very reason we’re here – you were the one egging Kris on. And Luke, too.” Roderick pointed out. “If anything, the rest of us were only roped up in your ‘idea’ anyway.”

“It wasn’t like I thought he could really do it! It was a joke!”

“Yeah, and you do remember what happens with jokes and Kris, right?” Ryan added, glancing at Luke. “You know, back to that same incident–”

“You’ve already mentioned it like, a dozen times! You don’t have to say it again!” Luke tossed the sponge to the table. “And we weren’t ‘egging him on’ like, I don’t know, some…”

“It certainly looked like you were from my perspective.”

“You’re just grumpy that he decided to use you for his weight lifting exercise and not the rest of us.”

“Why would you even be using people for weight lifting?!” Roderick raised his voice. Kris grimaced. “Well, Sir Draug did tell me to…”

“Wait – what?” Roderick squinted at Kris. “He… told you specifically to do that?!”

“Well… no, not really… but yes?”

“What is that supposed to mean?!”

Cecil clicked her tongue. “I don’t get it. If Sir Draug asked Kris to do it, then why would Sir Jagen punish us all just for carrying out his orders? Sir Draug wouldn’t ask us to do anything out of line…”

“And, for some reason, you thought that dangling a net – using the support beams on the ceiling – with your own platoon members in it, in the middle of the night… was ‘not out of line’?!”

“…well. Now that you put it like that…”

-x-x-x-

“Did you have to use a net…?” Ryan asked timidly from where he was dangling, tangled in the midst of several ropes.

“Well, there’s nothing else we could use… unless you wanted us to literally tie you to the rope.” Luke called, giving the rope he was holding a firm tug. Ryan yelped as the net he was in suddenly shot up a few inches.

Kris analysed the situation. The rope, which was connected to the net, was wrapped securely around one of the support beams in the ceiling of the armoury, with the other end coming down to where Luke was. The green-haired squire had several lengths of the thick rope wrapped around his arm, leaving Ryan – who was in the net – suspended up above their heads. Any nearby weapons had been moved away so they wouldn’t trip or stumble on them if the net did fall.

“Hmm… no, that wouldn’t work.” Kris pondered. “Sir Draug did say I had to lift ten men with his little finger before he would show me us special technique… I’m not sure where we would get ten men, but at least I can make sure this contraption actually works.”

“What’s the point of this rope, anyway?”

“I mean, the other option is probably to tangle a rope off the balcony and tie it to my little finger… but then that’s probably dangerous for Ryan.”

“I–I don’t even… why am I doing this?”

“Helping out your commander, of course!” Luke exclaimed. “Besides, it’s perfectly fine. You don’t have to lift a finger! Kris’s doing the heavy lifting, after all.”

“I still don’t like this…”

The door to the armoury suddenly opened. Luke froze, like a deer caught in a trap; and while he had his grip loosened on the rope, Ryan suddenly plummeted a couple of inches while Luke’s arm was yanked up.

The shadowy figure, silhouetted by the flickering flame before them, froze in place. “G-g–gh–”

“Huh? Isn’t that…?”

The figure paused. The light was lifted up closer to their face, illuminating their features in dancing candlelight. “Gah – Commander? Luke? …and Ryan? What are you doing here?”

Kris breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, it’s just you, Cecil. I thought it was someone else.”

“Why would you – wait, what’s even going on?” The red-haired girl stepped into the armoury, hands on her hips as she looked around the dimly lit room. She set down her candle on the ground and squinted at Ryan. “Did you catch him doing something?”

“No!” Ryan cried.

“He’s just helping Kris out with something.” Luke reeled the rope back down, pulling Ryan back up in several, jerky movements. Cecil hummed thoughtfully, looking in between Ryan and Kris. “I was going to come down here to polish my sword, but… what are you doing, anyway?”

“Sir Draug spoke to me about his special technique.” Kris’s eyes lit up as he recounted the events of his conversation with the senior knight. “You’ve heard the stories, haven’t you? Of how in the previous war, he’d be a mighty shield to his allies…”

“Oh, yes, I’ve heard. Sir Draug is truly an admirable knight.” Cecil nodded in agreement.

“Yes! And, with a single swing of his lance… he’d fling his enemies into the skies! And then… he’d take flight… and with a single blow of his lance–”

“Wait, what?”

“– he’d send them flying far away from Archanea!”

“Kris, that’s…”

“And he said that if I want any chance at learning his legendary technique…” Kris’s fingers curled into a fist, nails digging into his palm. “I must lift ten men with my little finger!”

“…impossible.”

“Yes, for anyone aside from the great Sir Draug!” Kris proclaimed.

Cecil snorted. “Yeah, and… what does this have to do with this, exactly?”

Kris gestured at the net. “Since Sir Draug himself set me such a task… I had to find some way to complete it! I know it must be challenging, on both the body and mind…”

“Uh.”

“…so I’ve designed this intricate contraption, which I spent quite a while planning, that should allow me to lift people with just my little finger!”

Cecil tried to hide her amused snicker as she glanced back at the ‘contraption’ – it just looked like a net swung over one of the wooden support beams in the ceiling. “Right… and you decided to get Ryan to be one of your… men?”

“Yes!”

“And Luke, you’re here because…?

“Kris came to me with his proposal, so I had to help him. I’m here to keep watch over everything and make sure his invention is working properly!”

“Right…” Cecil trailed off. “Well, then…”

“Ah! You could help us, Cecil!” Luke exclaimed.

Cecil tried to imagine it. All that came to mind was being stuffed into that net alongside Ryan, and she shuddered. “Yeah, not happening… I only wanted to come down here for a sword to polish, so I’ll just be going now…”

“Aw, c’mon! You’ve got to help your Commander!”

“Hm.” Cecil pondered. A grin began to creep across her face as she spoke again. “Well… there is something I can do to help…”

Then she turned around and disappeared out through the doorway, making sure to grab her candle and take it with her.

“Where’s she going?” Ryan mumbled, watching the door swing shut behind Cecil.

“Well, if she says she’s going to do something to help… it has to be something good!” Kris declared, turning back to his invention. “We should focus on making sure this works for now…”

Somebody knocked on the door.

“Huh, that was fast.” Luke said aloud.

“…so it is you – actually, you’re all here…?” Katarina breathed a sigh of relief as she stepped into the room, glancing nervously about. “And… did Cecil come down here? She’s not in her room.”

“Oh, she was just here a moment ago.” Luke remarked. “She’ll probably be back.”

“Ah.” Katarina hummed. “Well… I was wondering where everyone was, since your rooms were empty. What are you… doing?”

Kris grinned and quickly recited his conversation with Sir Draug back to Katarina.

“I… see.” Katarina frowned. “But, Kris… you do realise…”

“It’s not impossible as long as I train hard!” Kris protested, taking the rope from Luke and giving it a firm tug. “How else am I going to get Sir Draug to reveal the secrets of his legendary technique if I don’t practice this first?”

“That’s… not how it works.”

“Hey!” Luke’s eyes suddenly lit up. “Kris, you can lift one man, right?”

“Well…” Kris took the rope from Luke and wrapped several coils of it around his wrist. He gave it a firm pull, suspending Ryan above the floor for a couple of moments again. “It’s not too hard with a hand, so I guess I could do it with my little finger.”

“Excellent!” Luke clapped his hands together. “So let’s upgrade to two, shall we?”

“Two…?” Katarina mumbled.

Luke grinned devilishly as he approached Katarina. Her eyes widened and she took a step back. “W-wait…”

“You’ve got to help Kris!” Luke insisted. “We don’t have anyone else right now…”

“…you can help him?”

“Nah, not me! At least, not now.” Luke waved a hand. “Besides, I’m sure he’ll–” Katarina was pretty sure he was winking when he said this, “–really appreciate it, especially if it were you.”

“W-well…” Katarina flushed slightly at Luke’s eyebrow wiggling. “I guess… if it does help…”

“You’re going to help?” Kris asked, expression immediately brightening. “Oh, that’s wonderful! Thank you so much, Katarina!”

Katarina stuttered out something incomprehensible as Kris lowered the net. Luke hurried to pull the top open.

“Can I leave yet?” Ryan whined.

“Nah, kid. We’re only just at two people! We can’t give up now!”

“I wanna go back to bed…”

“Please, Ryan – just a moment longer…” Kris pleaded. “I really need to see if I can do this! Sir Draug himself asked me, after all…”

Ryan pouted, but didn’t move from his position in the net aside from to untangle his leg from one of the larger holes. Katarina swallowed nervously as she stared at the net. _I might be beginning to regret this…_

“I promise I won’t hurt you, Katarina – and if it does hurt, say so at once and I’ll stop immediately!” Kris urged. At his reassurance – well, not really, but it was the thought that counted – Katarina bit her lip, nodded, and carefully settled herself in a sitting position next to Ryan.

“Is this okay–”

“I’m back!” Cecil bellowed, barging through the doorway in a blur. The door slammed against the wall behind it with a loud crash, but that was drowned out by the screaming as a figure was dumped unceremoniously into the net next to Katarina.

“Roderick?” Katarina asked timidly, pulling her legs back to give the other squire some room. “Did you agree to–”

“NO! I didn’t agree to anything! I was just snatched out of bed b–”

“Shush, Rody,” Luke said with a smug grin stretched across his face. “Besides, I never took you for being particularly loud, but–”

“Be quiet!”

“–hah, and you have quite the temper too.”

“At ease, Luke – Roderick’s helping us out, after all.” Kris said quickly, stepping in between the two cavaliers. He turned to Cecil. “Er, was this the help–”

“Yep!” Cecil said proudly. “I couldn’t find Katarina, but I found the next best–” She blinked. “Oh. There you are, Katarina!”

“Hello?” Katarina waved, though there wasn’t much point since they were standing only a couple of meters away from each other. “So this is where you were, Cecil…? I was wondering why you weren’t in bed…”

“Why did you even drag me out of bed? I could’ve woken up perfectly fine on my own…” Roderick muttered, rubbing his eyes and sitting up. He squinted as he attempted to survey the dim room. “…where are we, anyway? And what–”

“Three people! That’s a perfect place to start!” Kris exclaimed. He gave the rope a firm tug, yanking it straight back up into the air again; which automatically pulled the top of the net shut.

This led to incomprehensible, muffled yelling through the net as it came to a stop, suspended from where it was being held up by the support beam.

“Looking good!” Luke praised. “It works perfectly! Now you just have to…”

“Right.” Kris’s expression steeled. “Three people, then. Let’s see if I can…”

“What in Archanea are you doing?!” Roderick shouted at him from where the three squires were tangled up in the net. The net spun around slowly from where it was dangling, and it wasn’t being helped by the wriggling of the three ‘volunteers’ as they attempted to find somewhere relatively comfortable that was not impeding on the others’ personal space (though that was incredibly difficult, with limbs askew absolutely everywhere).

“Huh? Oh, did Cecil not explain it to you? Well…”

“We don’t have all day, Kris.” Cecil pointed out. “Just try it and see if it works, then we can explain it to him later. After all, even if you can’t lift ten people… if it’s an exercise given by Sir Draug, we should do our best to try complete it!”

“That’s true…”

“That doesn’t explain anything!”

Kris cautiously unwrapped the coils of rope from his wrist, making sure to hold it steady with his other hand. Luke made faces at Roderick in the background.

“How many loops should I do…?” Kris murmured.

“Eh, as many as you can manage.” Luke paused to move over and hold the rope for Kris so he could focus.

“Hmm…” Kris frowned as he wrapped the thick rope several times around his finger. “And to secure it…” He tied a knot at the base of the thick lump of ropes tangled around his little finger. “That seems pretty tight.”

“All that’s left to do is for you to actually try lifting them!” Cecil urged, trying to keep the excitement from her voice. It wasn’t as if she thought he could actually do it – obviously, that was impossible, and she wasn’t sure why Draug would assign Kris such a task – but it certainly was amusing, especially with the muffled yelling in the background from her unwilling volunteer.

“I’ll set the net down first so you don’t break your finger.” Luke offered.

“An actually smart suggestion for once.” Cecil supplied in place of Roderick, because the brunette cavalier wasn’t going to.

“Right, of course. Thank you, Luke, Cecil.”

Luke made a noise of agreement as he lowered the net to the ground. He stepped back and folded his arms behind his back. “Right! When you’re ready, Kris!”

“Mhm.” Kris gave the net an experimental tug with his finger, testing the weight. Finally, he set his feet down, digging his heels into the ground, and started to pull back.

To Cecil’s surprise, the net was actually creeping upwards; at a slow pace, but it was actually moving. She turned back to Kris to ensure he was actually just using his little finger – yep, there didn’t appear to be anything else that was supporting him. Huh… maybe tales of his ‘ungodly amount of strength’ weren’t that far off after all.

“Heh – I always knew he was strong!” Luke puffed up his chest, smiling at Kris like a proud parent. Kris only groaned loudly in response as he kept on pulling, sweat trickling down his brow.

“That’s… he’s… how?”

Katarina quietly voiced her support from inside the net.

Kris hissed through his teeth and pulled harder. “Urgh… I – I can do this…!”

“One more person, maybe?” Cecil quickly enquired, turning towards the only other squire left standing in the room. Luke gulped at her expression. “Uh, now, Cecil, we needn’t be so–”

Something creaked.

“Naga, please…” Roderick had his eyes closed and his face was turned skywards, as if trying to reach through the ceiling of the armoury to pray for divine help.

“I–” Kris groaned. “A-actually, I don’t know I can take one more–”

He didn’t have to. For a start, the armoury door opened, letting light cut through the dimness of the armoury. Secondly, the entire support beam made a very loud cracking noise and suddenly the wooden beam, the net and all of the people attached to it slammed to the ground with a loud thud and crash.

“What…?” Piercing eyes squinted at them through the near-darkness. Beneath them was an all-too-familiar scowl, twisted even further downwards with obvious displeasure.

Luke gulped as said eyes turned to him. “Er… Sir, uh, Sir Jagen, I – we can explain…”

-x-x-x-

“I can still feel the bruises…” Ryan murmured.

“Just be glad you didn’t give Ryan another concussion, otherwise Sir Gordin would actually have killed you.” Katarina pointed out.

“Man, never mind him – it felt like Sir Jagen was going to kill me first!”

Kris chuckled nervously. “Kill you? He was about to throttle me alive, Luke.”

“And I didn’t even agree to any of this, but I’m still here cleaning the dining hall with all of you.”

“Lighten up, Rody! We’re a team, after all – we do everything together!”

“I doubt being put into a platoon meant anything close to this…”

Cecil chuckled at the memory. “Well, it was fun while it lasted.”

“What, having your room broken into and basically being kidnapped is considered fun?”

“It’s not my problem you didn’t lock the door.”

“That was Luke’s fault!”

The six of them suddenly jumped as Jagen’s voice rang through the dining hall. “Less chattering, more cleaning!”

The senior knight himself poked his head through the doorway a moment later. He scrutinised the floor and tables, then scrutinised the Seventh Platoon as they quickly ducked their heads and went back to work. “Hm. This is… acceptable work.”

They quickly jumped to attention and saluted as Jagen marched into the room. With a noise of disapproval, he folded his arms behind his back. “Now, would any of you like to tell me what exactly happened last night?”

They all stayed silent.

Jagen tsked again. “You know, when something happens, it always seems to be you six. Does anyone want to explain why?”

Again, everyone remained silent.

“Luke.”

“Y-yes, sir!”

“Yesterday…”

“No, sir! Nothing! It wasn’t – it was nobody’s fault!”

“Hmph. I am rather doubtful of that, seeing that when these things happen, they tend to be linked to you…”

“Ah, no, sir–” Kris quickly spoke up. “Er, I…”

“What is it?” Jagen’s intimidating stare swivelled to Kris. He gulped nervously. “Ah… well… I take–”

“Objection! It – it was my fault, sir!”

“Katarina? You’d…?” Jagen looked surprised for a second, eyebrows shooting up into his hairline.

“Wait, hold on a second.” Cecil interjected. “It was actually my idea, so… if you have to punish someone, it should be me.”

“A-actually!” Ryan stammered. “D-don’t… don’t listen to her, sir… it’s – it’s actually my fault this happened…”

“Hold it!” Luke jumped in his place, pointing dramatically out at thin air. “Actually, I confess – it was me!”

“Luke, you just said…”

Roderick felt all eyes turn expectantly to him.

Stifling his sigh, he added half-hearted “…actually, I take full blame.”

Jagen’s eyebrows drew together as he looked in between the six members of the Seventh Platoon. Finally, with a long, overbearing sigh, he shook his head. “It seems I’m never going to get a proper answer from any of you, am I?”

Luke began to nod, but Roderick stepped on his foot and Luke stopped.

“I suppose I can’t keep you any longer for today for your punishment. But if there’s something I have to say to you all…” He rubbed at the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, eyes closing. “If you _have_ to get into trouble for something, please do not let it be something that may endanger you.”

Kris perked up. “Does it mean we can do anything else… er, sir?”

Katarina did her best to contain her urge to smack Kris, especially when Jagen’s eyes turned menacingly to him.

“I’d hope not.” Despite the harshness of his tone, the senior knight’s eyes seemed to soften; only just slightly. “But my job as an instructor is to prevent my students from injuring themselves. Perhaps if you consider this – if you injure yourselves, you cannot partake in any more of the training sessions. If you cannot participate in or pass the final practical exam… you will not reach knighthood.”

Kris looked like he had been given a new revelation; his eyes widened and he gaped. As if realising Jagen was still there, he quickly saluted and jumped back to attention. “S-sir! Yes, sir! We will keep that in mind!” Kris cried.

Perhaps it was their imagination, but it almost seemed like the grumpy old knight was smiling. “It would be a shame, too – we do have some promising squires this year.” His mouth turned back down into its usual scowl. “Squires! Put away your cleaning supplies – your punishment is over for today. I hope it’s embedded in your head that your actions _will_ have consequences.”

“Yes, sir!”

“Dismissed!” Jagen spun around on his heel and marched out of the dining hall.

Kris suddenly sniffled. “You guys…”

“D-don’t cry, Kris…! You would’ve done the same for us!” Katarina exclaimed.

“Heh, I knew you’d finally see the splendour of the Legendary Luke! And it’s finally brought you to tears–”

“Shut up, Luke.” Despite this, Cecil had a fond smile on her face as she glanced at Kris. “Besides, we were all technically at fault anyway. Roderick, don’t you dare say a word about you ‘not having any part of this’ – we’re a team.”

Ryan giggled. “A-actually…. Sir Jagen’s not that scary, now that I think about it… I wouldn’t have ever thought that I’d dare raise my voice at him, but…”

“Aw, yeah! You’re learning from us!” Luke clapped the shorter squire on the back with a grin. Kris chuckled at this, rubbing away the tears that were forming in his eyes. “Hah – well, I can’t say Sir Gordin would be very pleased to hear we’re influencing you in such ways…”

“A-actually! He spoke to me the other day… and told me I was, er, becoming stronger…. because I’d start raising my voice.” Ryan smiled. “I told him to thank you guys, actually…”

“Wait, really?” Luke exclaimed.

“Er, he… kind of looked at me when I said that… and said something like ‘oh, I see’ and walked away. I don’t think I’ve seen him since…”

“I… see.”

“And… when was that?” Roderick enquired.

“Yesterday, maybe?”

“Uh.” Luke chuckled nervously. “Do you think he’s going to come ‘thank’ us with his bow and arrows?”

“That’s silly… Sir Gordin wouldn’t actually harm us! Besides, he was proud of Ryan for that, so there really isn’t any reason…” Katarina trailed off. “Huh… it feels like somebody’s… watching me right now.”

Kris laughed nervously, eyes flitting to the space behind Katarina. He slowly took a step back, hands raised. “Well… that might be because…”

Cecil shoved Luke forwards. “Distraction!”

“What?”

Luke turned around. The other five squires had already fled the room, with Kris even jumping out the open window (which was next to the door that led out into the courtyard).

“Aw, c’mon guys – I thought we were a team! You can’t just not tell me what’s going on…”

Luke froze. The hair at the back of his neck prickled uneasily and his heart began to pound unreasonably quickly.

“…guys?” He echoed.

Somebody tapped him on the shoulder.

He screamed and spun around to be met with the current object of his nightmares.

Gordin frowned as he watched the green-haired squire sprint out of the dining hall, leaving behind his mop and sponge on the recently-cleaned ground. “Hey, wait, don’t run…”

Luke was gone.

“…when the ground’s wet. It’s dangerous… oh, well. Never mind.” He frowned and glanced behind himself. “I wonder what startled him…”

He took a closer look around the dining hall; there were mops, sponges and rags left astray on the tables, but aside from that, the dining hall seemed particularly clean, which was actually rather impressive. “Huh… Jagen did say they would be here. I must’ve just missed the rest of the Seventh Platoon.” He sighed. “Oh dear…”

The confidence he had mustered up for his ‘speech’ to the Seventh Platoon was already dwindling away, alongside the words he had carefully drafted out in his head. He shook his head and sighed again. “…I’ve been putting this off for too long, but… never mind speeches – it’s even harder trying to get ahold of my brother’s platoon. I wonder why…?”


End file.
